Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Frosted Mini-Wheat Thoughts and Theories

I have no idea why as my one and only breakfast cereal I purchased Frosted Mini-Wheats. I eat them nearly every morning, and nearly every morning I feel like throwing up. Yet I will eat them until they are gone. I know this. Life goes on.

I think however, they sort of present a metaphor for my present state. I realized Monday that the past three weeks I have been strangely depressed. Probably more depressed than I have at any other point in college so far. I think it's been a combination of things, including a big fight with my parents and me not getting into a show this semester.

Fortunately, though, I think I'm pulling through pretty well now. I've done a lot of self-re-evaluation the past two days, and I actually feel a lot happier. I felt out of balance and without purpose. I sat down and figured out what direction I want to go in, which includes a renewed dedidication to acting and getting a job that I really want. So far so good. I have reconciled with my family. I've put a lot of thought into my characterization scene, and I think I have a really good shot at this job I applied for at a fancy-schmancy Chocolate Lounge in Evanston. And I have been listening to a lot of White Stripes.

Yeah, I know this post is pretty lame. Think of it as an open letter, to you. Personally, I mean it. Nobody else can read this. Here's to you, reader.

Now this guy...

From humble beginnings in Toledo, OH all the way to living gloriously in Chicago, Barry has succeeded in stroking his ego the whole time. A writer, philosopher, actor, designer, and all around modern Renaissance Man getting his taste of higher education at Loyola. He also wants to be your friend.
Check him out at chicagotheatreblog.com!